The Lord's Bride
by Lemily Lee
Summary: I can't remember ... Something sinister ... inside of me and I don't know why it is there ...   [LVxBLxOC fanfiction, PreDH and rated M for future chapters.]  Following a young Death Eater through her misfortunes and her submission to an unpleasant fate.
1. Prologue

**Authors Note**; _Based on a dream I had. I've just developed ideas further to create a story, really.  
It would be nice to have some constructive critisism or just some reviews to see if you like my work.  
If not, don't read it. (:_

She ran. As fast as her legs could take her. Her muscles aching and straining as she rushed forward in a blind panic, her little feet sore as she cut across the pebble stone road to stop, standing, breathing in desperately at the cold night air.  
It took the young girl a while to question herself. She stood alone, finding herself situated in an old street. Empty houses and dark windows surrounding her, it was almost like a ghost town.  
As her breathing calmed a little, she stretched her hot feet out against the cool grass. Where was she? Why was she running? What was she running _from_?  
The girl frowned. She knew that it wasn't like her to forget things .. But her head was empty. It was as if someone had burnt holes on the parchment that was her memory.  
Her name, her name was Lahela.  
A pain in her head caused her to stumble backward a little and then she heard the voices once more, those angry shouts that caused her heart to once again race. It was as if her body knew better than she, what was happening around her.  
The cloaked figures curved around the street corner, their wands blazing reds and yellows. They were aiming at _her.  
_Lahela stifled her own scream and turned back on her heels, ignoring the pain in her legs she threw herself forward at the fastest speed she could muster. The angry group of witches and wizards were gaining on her.  
Lahela's throat was on fire, through her veins, a heat burst. Tearing off her cloak she continued to run. A unpleasant sensation growing on her forearm, yet she had no time to look at the cause of such agony and carried on, tears streaming down her hot cheeks, stinging.  
Lahela carried on towards a large house, throwing the gates open so that she could rush through the huge unkempt garden, passing a dark labyrinth of hedges as she did so.  
The group of wizards and witches must have lost sight of her, as she could here their puzzled voices as they separated in search of her. Lahela hid behind the shrubbery before the great door of the mansion, fearing for her life.

What had she done?

Lahela realised that she was now crying. What was happening to her?  
For a moment she remained quiet, her breathing was harsh and erratic. Looking down at her own hands she noticed how much she was shaking. Then Lahela noticed it.  
The mark was almost like a tattoo. A decoration of morbid design that was scorched into her pale flesh.  
Running her hand around the shape of the sore skull against her skin she was suddenly gagged. Without enough strength to struggle against the sudden attack, she tried to yell out in protest, but was soon dragged inside by two strong arms. The door of the manor then closing before her.

Clawing with all the strength she now could manage, Lahela fought against the attacker. Helpless as he pulled her into the house, her heels bumping against the uneven floorboards.  
'You're hurting me …It's okay …' the man began. His voice seemed surprising soothing as he placed her down gently by the fire, prying her hands from him. Her wild eyes looked about the room. It was dark, dank, unclean and then up to her captive.  
He smiled.  
He too, like the house seemed rather dirty, though his features showed there was an opportunity for improvement if he was washed. Tall, dark and handsome … his darkened eyes showed signs of premature aging.  
'You've had us all worried …' he spoke, as if he were an old friend. 'I didn't know what to think when The Dark Lord pronounced you as _missing_. I thought that the worst could have happened to you … and in your state...' He carefully removed the gag from her chattering teeth.  
'Please don't kill me!' Lahela burst as soon as the foul tasting material was pulled from her mouth, shuffling backwards until she was almost sitting in the fireplace.  
The man chuckled a little and knelt down so that his face was level with hers. '_Lahela …_'  
Her eyes grew wide. He knew her? A short breath escaped her mouth as she stilled in disbelief.  
Like thunder, men tumbled down the stairs loudly, all masked and loud, making Lahela jump. It felt as if her heart had leapt from her mouth.  
'Rodolphus,' one man spoke from behind his mask, 'There are more of them now … we need you up there.'  
_Rodolphus_? Lahela recognised the name and looked back at the man who had known her. Who was he? _How_ did he know her name?  
Rodolphus nodded and the men returned towards the stairs, yelling and shooting curses as they made their way to the first floor of the mansion.  
Rodolphus grabbed his mask from the mantle piece and turned to Lahela, his smile had faded, but his expression was harmless, towards her.  
'Be careful …' he warned, 'we're here to protect you.'  
And with that, he too moved swiftly up the stairs to fire from the open windows at the witches and wizards who had been chasing her previously.  
Lahela remained seated as her breathing started to relax the pain in her tired muscles began to return. Wincing, she tried to stand, wiping her face as her tears had since dried and had made her cheeks feel raw.

There was a thumping against the front door that startled her. Debris falling away from the door frame as it shook. Lahela stumbled backward. The noise from those outside grew louder. Were they going to get in? Quickly, Lahela moved through the corridor, using her hands to balance herself. Paint crumbled away beneath her fingertips. This house was old.Her quick pace bought Lahela into the living room. A great room filled with books and tapestries. A normal Lahela would have admired the mysteries that the room contained, yet her fear blinded her and urged her to move onward through the manor, until she reached an empty room.  
Lahela's chest was giving in and she heaved a great breath, exhausted she could only slump down against the wall. Her body had failed her now, along with her mind. She saw a figure outside of the small wooden door in front of her, yet couldn't grasp the energy to pull herself from the floor. Fear had bound her feet and exhaustion forced her to remain still.  
Bellatrix blasted through the doorway, her eyes seemed even wilder than usual and once she had caught sight of Lahela, she advanced. Lahela instantly recognised the face. The bony structure, the untamed hair, the deep dark eyes that glared down upon her. _Bellatrix_, she remembered Bellatrix …Lahela screamed as Bellatrix pulled at her arm and dragged her to her feet only accentuating the agony Lahela was already in.  
'RODOLPHUS!' Lahela screeched the only name she knew, yet silenced herself as the look of confusion crossed Bellatrix' stern expression. Without a word exchanged, a bag was thrown over Lahela's head and she felt a warmth crawl up over her body, pulling her into a state of unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter One: Imprisoned

_**AN:** Please, feel free to Read and Review.  
I would like to hear your opinions on this first chapter as I wasn't sure how to take it._

_Thankyou._

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE**

**H**er eyelids were heavy. Lahela tried to open them, but it felt as if they had been sewn shut. Beneath her, she could feel soft material, grasping hold of the cloth, she wriggled against it, as if the material had purposefully wound it's way around her, like a snake suffocating it's prey.  
Lahela hated this feeling of blindness and struggled against herself. Exhaustion had worn her body and she became aware to the aches in her bones as she moved slightly. Groaning she made another mighty effort to open her eyes, this time, they fluttered open to reveal to her a cracked and worn ceiling.

Lahela had been laid down on a large bed. The covers were messily strewn across her body, an indication to how she had fidgeted in her sleep. Other than the bed and a single wooden chair, the room was rather empty. Cell-like. One single window on the far side of the room exposed the world outside. The stars were glistening far off in the distance. Freedom _did_ exist. Just not for her.  
Lahela attempted to find something she recognised about the room, yet there was nothing. The recollections she had were vague and the only memories that remained in her empty head were of what seemed like several hours earlier, where she had been in a mansion, running away …

What was happening to her? _Why_ was this happening to her?

Lahela bought herself up into a seated position, so that her weak head could lean back against the headboard, lazily. Her head thumped and something in her stomach moved around. It made her feel ill.  
As she lay there, so still she could have been mistaken as dead, a voice from beyond the door could be heard.

Bellatrix.

'The girl is awake, my Lord …'  
There was the sound of movement and the door opened, Bellatrix entering first and glancing over the figure of Lahela, Lahela looking back, an expression of worry now present across her youthful face.  
Lord Voldemort followed, also looking across at Lahela, his expression remaining blank as he stepped over to the chair and sat down, as if ready to analyse Lahela.  
Lahela recognised Lord Voldemort. Her memory somewhere triggered something negative. The sound of screaming, the feeling of fear, the feeling of dread …  
Lahela then suddenly knew _of_ Lord Voldemort and his influence on the wizarding race. It frightened her.

Attempting to shuffle away from him she noticed a smirk escape from Bellatrix, yet Bellatrix remained silent all the while.  
'Calm down Lahela …' Voldemort spoke. His voice was soft, yet she could here the strength in it, as if it was a demand for her to do as he requested.  
She stilled.  
Both he and Rodolphus had known her name …  
'What do you want with me?' she managed, hearing her voice crack, shocked by her own weakness.  
Lord Voldemort's brow furrowed, turning to Bellatrix, 'it seems she is suffering some short-term memory loss. .. As you said before … I don't think the effects are _too _severe.'  
Bellatrix nodded, triumphant over Lahela's current lowliness.  
'Have Severus make her something that will revitalise her memory…' After he had administered his order, Lord Voldemort then returned to face Lahela, as she still cowered away from him, the covers bought up around her face. They had once been almost suffocating her, now the blankets were her shield, her sanctum.

Memory loss? Is _this_ what she was experiencing?

Lord Voldemort ran his thin finger across Lahela's smooth skin lightly, so that it casually touched her cheek. Lahela shuddered at the feeling of cold yet was unable to look away, almost hypnotised by his red eyes, the large round pupils swallowing her little reflection like a great black hole.  
'I understand you feel threatened at the moment … confused. But, you _are_ safe.' The words from Voldemort were hard to believe, especially when they came from the man that Lahela could only remember as brutal …  
'You _must_ rest yourself, Lahela. We wouldn't want you damaging yourself _or_ the baby …' Lord Voldemort's fiery glare bought itself down on Lahela's belly and then back up to her face. 'Do not fail me.'  
Lahela too, looked down for a moment at her stomach. It was ever so slightly bloated. Something she wouldn't have recognised beforehand.

The baby?

Her hands began to shake once more. _A baby_? 'Wha --'  
Lord Voldemort silenced her abruptly when he raised his hand, 'think nothing of it until Severus heals your memory … I can not afford you having to deal with anymore emotional stress than you already have done, my child.'  
Lahela nodded. Did she _want_ her memory to return?  
Looking up at Bellatrix, no sympathy came, merely an icy stare that made Lahela's blood run equally as cold, preferring even Lord Voldemort's emptiness over Bellatrix'.  
Lord Voldemort stood, nodding to himself as he did so, 'I shall send Lestrange to check on you in a few hours time. I suggest **strongly** that you rest Lahela, you will understand all in time.'  
With that, Voldemort left the room swiftly, his cloak following his footfalls as gracefully as a shadow would do.

Bellatrix lingered. Her dark eyes seemed ablaze, though Lahela could not quite read the sour expression that had emerged from Bellatrix' controlled face, once Voldemort was truly gone from the room. 'You were chosen because you were _pretty_ … pretty and **young**,' she spat, like venom at the young girl in the bed.  
Lahela grew scared and her confusion grew, 'what?'  
Bellatrix' expression softened slightly, 'Don't you _dare_ think, even for a moment, that The Dark Lord values you, little girl …' And then, she too left.

It took a long while for Lahela to get to sleep. For what seemed like hours, she laid, staring at the ceiling. Questions disturbing her thoughts. If only she could remember.  
What was her purpose?  
The feeling was indescribable and unpleasant. Lahela had no sense of herself. Eighteen years of memories had just vanished.  
Lahela remembered her age. She was eighteen.

Her memories were going to be returned to her soon, she was thankful for that…  
Lahela laid like an empty shell, the feeling of loneliness and loss overwhelmed her so that she began to cry, once more, into the pillows.  
It wasn't until dawn lit the edges of the curtains and the birds began to wake from their peaceful night, that Lahela finally managed to fall into a restless slumber.

_A kiss landed swiftly across her lips. It felt pleasant, gentle, but for some reason, she wanted to shun it away. Push it as far from her as it could possibly go._

_Her eyes were tightly closed and her whole body felt tense with … was it anxiety?_

_She knew there stood a person before her, someone she felt **impelled **to touch, to …_

_Pushing away at the figure she moved away, the backs of her knees bashing against something hard so that she fell upon the lightest of mattresses._

_Lahela felt scared, worried … but she could not understand why she felt so. The room was warm, the figure was careful with her, fingers running across her cheeks ever so slightly, like a breeze._

_Tears fell from her eyes but they seemed wasted as they were quickly wiped from her face by the same hands._

_It was difficult to struggle against such loving touches. 'Lahela …' the voice was soft, enchanting … and somewhat seducing? Lahela felt her face flush suddenly and her hands flew to hide her reddening cheeks._

'_Lahela …'_

'Lahela!'  
She woke with a start, almost sitting up in a straight position as her eyes flew open.  
'You're still distressed?' a familiar voice came and Lahela turned to face the source.  
It was the same gentleman who had helped her previously, though he looked a lot cleaner … and he'd trimmed his beard.

'Rodolphus?'

He grinned at her recognition of him, 'Hello there.' Rodolphus bent low so that his eyes were almost level with her own, his hand taking a lock of her raven hair, running his fingers through it.  
His touch was rough and so she retaliated. Rodolphus too, withdrew his hand rapidly, as he had jumped at her sudden movement.

'Lahe--'

'What's happening to me?' she rushed quickly and Rodolphus gave a sympathising look.  
'You ran away. We can understand why you'd do that, but it was so dangerous. I worried about you ... We _all_ worried about you. The Dark Lord didn't know what to do' Rodolphus chuckled a little to himself, 'I have never, in all my life, seen him act so nervously before.  
'You'll remember it all in time … The Dark Lord didn't expect his spell to work for such a long period. I guess it was merely trial and error under such pressure …'  
Lahela blinked. She had run away? Trial and error? Her mind whirled, this sensation of emptiness was awful, **sickening**...  
'Running away?'  
Rodolphus surveyed her steadily. 'Yes.'  
Lahela only nodded lightly and avoided further eye contact, looking down at the covers that she fumbled with nervously. She could hear Rodolphus fidget a little. He thought the situation was uncomfortable? Perhaps he should take a walk in her shoes. Lahela felt so very alone.  
'When will I be able to remember these things you _claim_ I have done?' she questioned quietly, almost as if, to herself.  
He sighed, 'Soon, my dear. Soon you will remember everything.'


	3. Chapter Two: The Drink

**CHAPTER TWO**

**L**ord Voldemort remained seated in the large chair that was situated at the end of the long, dark table.  
Casually, his delicate fingers caressed the snout of Nagini, before trailing off down her thick smooth body, as his eyes cast upward towards the door. Bellatrix, watched transfixed, as Snape entered, a dull expression cast across his tired face. 'My Lord …' he spoke, in a tone that suited his current mood.  
'The girl…' Voldemort began, his voice almost a whisper, 'why is her memory still faulting her?  
The question was direct, no niceties had been spoken beforehand. Lord Voldemort seemed urgent.  
Snape's black yes glinted as the candlelight caught them, 'The memory loss charm that we used on her was only temporary, though strong, my Lord …'  
Snape waited a moment in case Voldemort wanted to question further, however, when the masters silence remained, Snape continued. 'She will regain her memory in time.'  
Voldemort withdrew a heavy breath, a frown appearing on his brow, 'this loss is causing her great stress I cannot afford to lose the -'  
'Yes, My Lord. I understa-'  
'There must be something you can do to assist the young girl. Bring forth her memories, surely?' Bellatrix piped in, yet Voldemort silenced her once more with a wave of his hand.  
Snape remained focused on Lord Voldemort's expression. It was unchanging. Stern and demanding. He awaited an answer for Bellatrix' question.  
'I _can_ treat her, my Lord. Though the flood of thoughts that will return to her, might become of greater stress to her than waiting for them to return naturally to her mind …'  
Voldemort seemed to cast the condition of the girl aside as if it were nothing, 'I cannot wait any longer Severus …'  
Snape nodded solemnly. He knew what he was going to have to do. Turning on his heel he shot a glance at Bellatrix, whose equally dark glare challenged him as he swept from the room, shutting the door, leaving both The Dark Lord and his lieutenant in the gloom.

-

_Five hours later ..._

Lahela had began walking once more. She had tottered around the room, several times, often pacing, as she racked her mind for something to remember.  
After hours of exhausting herself in that way, she then stood before the small window to look out at the bright daylight that had been struggling to break through the curtains all day.  
Birds flew overhead, piercing through the blue sky. Rain clouds heavy in the distance. She wondered where she could possibly be. Was she still in England, even?  
Rodolphus must have left her once she had fallen back into slumber previously. She was once again alone and it had been a good several hours since then.

Perhaps they had left her?

She felt tears pricking against the back of her eyelids, yet had no energy to release them.  
Lahela sighed and let her hand fall upon the small bloating on her stomach. Something was moving inside of her, something sinister. If only she knew why it was there. Frowning to herself she assured that she probably **didn't** want to know why it was there and forced all thoughts aside.  
There came an insistent knocking from the door to the room. Lahela turned from the window to stare at the door, eyes wide. Worried as to who would want to disturb her, or who it was that wished to speak to her.  
'My Lady?' came a gruff voice, from the door and Lahela wasn't sure if it was addressing her, or someone else beyond the wall.  
Gingerly, she approached, 'yes?'  
There was a pause, then the voice continued, 'I have a cure for your memory loss …'  
Lahela grasped the door handle, breathing in quickly, 'yes?'  
'The Dark Lord suggests that you should have it.'  
Lahela bit her lip. What was she to do? Was there really anything to lose? Pulling open the door her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness of the corridor before her. A dark figure stood before, holding a wooden goblet.  
His hair was long, unkempt, his face dull, almost … depressed.  
Lahela did not recognise this man, nor anything that she could associate him with. Not like she had recognised the others, like Bellatrix', Rodolphus and Lord Voldemort himself.  
It was as almost if the man had read her confusion and he once again spoke, his voice lower now she was in his presence, 'Allow me to introduce myself, I am Severus Snape, a potions master.'  
Lahela eyed the swirling drink suspiciously.  
'May I come in?' he asked and Lahela instantly stepped aside to allow him to pass through into her room. There had been no lock left on her door after all? Had she really been _imprisoned_? It didn't seem the case.  
'The return of your memory might be a little overwhelming,' came Snape's voice as he took the goblet and placed it on her bedside table, where he noticed a note had also be left.  
Concentrating, he squinted, to see if he could read what had been written on it.  
Lahela glanced round the frame of the door, completely unaware that Snape was invading her privacy, as she tried to make out what was beyond the corridor, curiously.

_Soon, we will be together again, my love …_

Snape could only make out a single line, the rest of the letter must have been concealed within the folds. There wasn't even a signature present. He then eyed Lahela, who had taken her first few steps from the room.  
'My Lady?'  
Lahela looked back, towards him and retreated once more into her cell, closing the door, again, disappointed that there had been nothing to see beyond her own room.  
'You should drink this, now,' Snape spoke, his tone a little impatient. Just standing in the room with this young girl made him feel uncomfortable. She too was trapped within a world that had spiralled out of her control.  
He felt unnecessary guilt, barely able to look her in her bright eyes because he knew more than she of her own life, right now.  
Lahela sat on the bed and grabbed the goblet. Looking down at the contents warily.  
It's surface glittered and swirled simultaneously, almost star-like, rather like a galaxy in space. It looked powerful, _overwhelming_, as Snape had described. It seemed smooth, like it wasn't a substance you could drink, but rather something you could breath in … gas like.  
'It's perfectly safe,' Snape spoke, a calmness to his voice that Lahela seemed urged to trust. 'I brewed it myself this morning. Despite it's appearance it's quite a simple potion to mix …'  
Lahela noted that this man, _Severus_, was obviously passionate about his work, like nothing else on Earth was ever going to distract him from it.  
'Will this hurt me?' Lahela asked, quietly, almost shy to ask.  
Snape shook his head, 'Perhaps emotionally … though physically, it is apparently a fulfilling feeling for one to experience when drinking back their memories.'  
Lahela swallowed hard. It was true, what had she to lose? Nothing. The only thing that accompanied her mind was blank. This drink promised her memories, her life …  
Closing her eyes she bought the goblet to her lips and took her first sip.  
It _was_ a liquid and an ice cold temperature, freezing her teeth and making her wince. Determined she pulled the goblet up higher, swallowing the contents with great thirsty gulps, until she had drained the contents completely.

Then it happened. A tremendous headache exploded in her head.

She heard screams, crying … what was her own crying …

Voldemort, he was speaking to her …

Someone … her father …

'I love you,' came a voice she recognised …

Tears flooded her cheeks as she heard her own pained screams of a name, 'POTTER! PLEASE …'

It then stopped, silence…

Lahela groaned.


End file.
